


Just Do You

by LilianRoses



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Attempted Seduction, Don't Judge Me, Engagement, Fluff, I Ship It, M/M, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Successful Seduction, VictUuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 16:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10469328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilianRoses/pseuds/LilianRoses
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri is asking all of his fellow skaters for advice on how to seduce Viktor Nikiforov. They all think he's joking, until they realize he's not. Viktor Nikiforov is holding back in an attempt to respect Yuuri's broad boundaries. Everything is solved when they just converse like goddamn adults.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make me feel extreme joy! So please leave one! ^v^/

\-----

Phichit was ashamed to admit he had originally thought Yuuri was joking. 

 

He'd seen the pictures of last year's GPF banquet. He'd watched  _videos_ of that night. He'd influenced Viktor Nikiforov so much that, after  _one night_ of interaction, he was willing to drop his skating career for a year and  _chase him_ to Japan. And yet here his friend was, living wih Viktor Nikiforov,  _engaged to Viktor Nikiforov,_ asking if he had any ideas on how to  ** _seduce_** Viktor Nikiforov.

 

He honestly felt like telling him to do nothing, because it seemed like he'd gotten this far without trying. But he'd known Yuuri for years, and his friend was sitting curled up in his computer chair, chin to knees, with the look in his eyes that he only got when he was really worried about something. So he reigned in Sassy Phichit and brought forward Therapy Phichit, who he felt would be far better received at the moment. He smiled gently.

 

"What brought this on, Yuuri?"

 

He curled farther, which he hadn't thought possible.

 

"It's just...I know we're a couple. Hell, we're engaged. But he hasn't tried anything. At all. Not even once, Phichit. What if he only even gave me this ring to calm my nerves, and I forced him to call it an egagement ring?"

"Yuuri, you've met Viktor. You've lived with Viktor. You've been coached by Viktor. And for some reason, even after all the BS he's said and done and seeing all his flaws, you still decided to enter a relationship with Viktor. When have you  _ever_ seen him do something he didn't want to do or be forced to do  _anything_?"

 

Yuuri uncurled a bit, but didn't look fully convinced.

 

"That's true, Phichit...but what does he see in me, honestly? I humiliated myself last year. He only gave me  _Eros_ because it would 'suprise the audience'. Even after slimming down, I'm still heavier than most omegas. I have anxiety and eat when I'm nervous. I cry at the slightest bit of pressure, and slam my hand down on the panic button at any hint of struggle. He's a five-time gold medalist. Even for an Alpha, he's extremely fit. He could have any omega he wanted...why does he want me?"

 

Time for Sassy Phichit. 

 

"You must be talking about another Yuuri, because that's  _nothing_ like the Yuuri I know."

"Phichit-"

"The Yuuri  _I_ know skated after hearing traumatic news. He had a  _reason_ to cry, and yet he made his way onto that damn ice anyway. The Yuuri  _I_ know was ranked sixth  _in the world_ despite being an omega surrounded by Alphas. My Yuuri  _acknowledged_ his issues with his weight, and fought like hell to fix them. He might have anxiety, and yet he still skates anyway, because he loves it. If anyone has  _any_ right to cry, it would be him, and yet when he hits the ice, he fights to prove thaat he belongs there. So we must be talking about two different Yuuris.  _I_ think that Viktor should be damn grateful that  _my Yuuri_ chose and wants  _him._ "

 

Yuuri looked at him with a shaky smile and watery eyes. He hated how lowly Yuuri thought of himself. Viktor better fight everyday to convince him otherwise, Phichit thought sternly. 

 

"Thanks, Phichit. You're the best, you know."

"I do know. And I love you in a completely platonic way. The Victuuri ship must sail."

"The what?"

"Nothing. You wouldn't get it; you don't use Insta enough."

 

He uncurled fully, and sighed.

 

"I guess I'll just have to wait it out, then. Thanks again for the pick-me-up though, Phichit."

\-----

Chris raised an eyebrow.

 

"You want advice on how to seduce Viktor? Why do you need it?"

 

Yuuri shuffled in that way that Viktor had told him he loved (while he was drunk, of course).

 

"I just want to go a step farther, you know? I was just going to wait it out...but it's been a while, and still nothing. And I figured that since you're kind of the expert on mature _eros_..."

 

Chris held down a laugh. He would  _not_ laugh right now. But he had a drunk Russian calling him from his apartment and sulking in the hotel's bar (where they were staying for a competition) every other night complaining to him about how good Yuuri smelled and that his ass was fantastic and how unfair his life was. He was also pretty sure that if he told Yuuri about _any_ of that Viktor would off him with the blade of an ice-skate. He didn't want to  _'pressure'_ him. It figured that the precious cinnamon roll would be the one who would probably have to take the first step.

 

"Yuuri. You literally swept him off his feet and then  _pole-danced_ at last year's GPF banquet. Every time you skate _On Love: Eros,_ he looks like he's fighting the urge to hop the boards and eat you. I'd say he's been pretty thoroughly seduced."

"But then _why_ -"

 

Yuuri huffed, and Chris wrinkled his nose. He could smell the sour scent of frustration and unsatisfaction rolling off of Yuuri in waves. It actually made his skin itch a little; a biological response to a distressed omega. He could only imagine what it smelled and felt like to Viktor, an alpha actually  _interested_ in Yuuri. He would have wrapped an arm around him in teasing, but that would intermingle their scents. Viktor had already been  _super_ on edge lately, and he seemed like the type to go for the throat.

 

He shuddered remembering the burning smell of pepper (signaling an irate alpha) that Viktor had let off when he'd groped Yuuri, not that you could really tell from the overly-polite smile. And omegas couldn't really smell that particular scent, just detect a subtle shift in an alpha's scent overall. But Yuuri'd been so anxious that he probably hadn't noticed the change at all. So he had just played it off, but judging from the chilliness of the next few conversations and the fact that the peppery-smell didn't leave for quite a while, he had remained angry for a good chunk of the competition.

 

Best not to go there.

 

(At least Yuuri had done well; that usually put him in a better mood. The smell of pepper had been replaced by the smell of like...baked goods, or something, which was you got if you blended those two's scents together. And Viktor had draped himself over Yuuri enough to completely mix them because of course he had.)

 

So there wasn't really any advice he  _could_ give the little cinnamon roll. Mostly because he just wasn't _built_ for mature  _eros._ And that wasn't a dig at his weight or his curves or anything; it was more his confidence than anything. Any attempt from him to adopt mature  _eros_ would just make him uncomfortable and nervous. And an uncomfortable Yuuri let off a scent that kicked Viktor's  _'comfort-and-correct'_ instincts into high gear. The need to make him feel better and remedy whatever situation that made him feel that way in the first place would overshadow any arousal he might have felt. He needed to stick with his  _'innocent eros'_ routine; it fit him better, and Viktor adored it.

 

He told him as much, and tried not to feel bad as he watched him frown but thank him anyway.

\-----

Viktor was struggling. He was really trying his hardest, but Yuuri just seemed to be testing him at every turn.

 

Yuuri Katsuki was innocent. He tried to see the best in every person, regardless of who they were. He thought the world was a warm place, and had an outlook completely different than Viktor's cynicism. Because if he could make it, anyone could. Yuuri Katsuki was also oblivious. He didn't see how his presence affected people. He didn't notice the looks people gave him, or how just being around him made you want to try harder. He thought he was average, when he was really anything but. And Yuuri Katsuki had self-confidence similar to a Jenga tower. You could build it easily enough. It might wobble, and it might shake, but it would grow with effort. But if you moved the wrong piece (mostly by saying the wrong thing like Viktor had in the parking garage; he was so grateful Yuuri had forgiven him for that) then the whole damn thing would collapse and you'd have to rebuild it.

 

All-in-all, Yuuri Katsuki was an amazing person. And Viktor wanted him to be  _ **his**  _amazing person. Sure, they were engaged. But Yuuri still lacked that biological marker that would scream at everybody,  _"hey, this precious omega is mine and if you touch him I'll **break you** " _that he really wanted to give him.

 

But one thing Yuuri  _did_ have was boundaries. Wide,  _wide_ boundaries. Between his cultural background, his anxiety, his self-confidence issues, and his obliviousness, there was an invisible line that formed a circle around him that you did _not_ cross on your own. You had to be invited. He had figured that after what had occured at last year's GPF banquet, he had a pass _into_ that circle. He entered Yuuri's space when he had first arrived at the onsen, and was somewhat offended when Yuuri had scampered back like he'd been tazed.

 

(He had spit out his beer in shock when he found out that Yuuri did not  _remember_ that banquet; he had been far too drunk to. Viktor had then proceeded to die inside at the thought that he'd basically been invading his personal space like a fucking creep and sexually harassing him for almost a fucking _year_.)

 

Anyway, he was determined not to step _foot_ in that circle until he was invited. He'd wait until they were both old and crippled if need be. Yuuri was important to him, and his comfort trumped his own desires. But he had wondered if this was possibly karma for something he did. Because Yuuri did not even try to be as enticing as he was. He just...was. He had hips that most other omegas did not have, and they unconsciously swayed when he walked. He stretched against the wall before competitions, and it nearly killed him. He'd do flexibility training, dance, and yoga on a regular basis, which sent Viktor's mind straight into the gutter.

 

And then Mila had recommended some of her exercise gear to him, mostly yoga pants, which Yuuri  _adored._ Apparently they kept their shape in the wash and were super durable so they wouldn't rip while he stretched. He had ordered literally every color of every garment, and wore them everywhere. He hadn't even been mad when Yuri had scoffed that they were for women. He had looked the young alpha square in the eyes and asked him:

 

_"Why should only women get to be comfortable? And with the way you do splits, how many pants have **you** ripped? Maybe you should get a pair."_

 

And then he skated away as if he hadn't just given a middle finger to gender roles. And Viktor loved him for it. He also loved his ass in those pants, and had almost murdered Mila for increasing his suffering exponentially. 

 

"You did this on purpose. You did it on  _purpose,_ and I hate you. I confided in you. I  _trusted you,_ and you used that knowledge for  _evil._ "

"I thought you'd like them, to be honest."

"He wears them around the  _apartment,_ Mila. He wears them around the apartment, when he stretches, when he dances, when he runs,  _everywhere._ His ass and his hips and his thighs are constantly on display. And he has them in every type and color. He has  _blue ones,_ Mila. His ass looks great in blue."

"Maybe if you'd just talk to him, you wouldn't be suffering right now."

 

Viktor leaned his forehead against the boards, groaning at the unfairness of it all. Mila leaned back, completely unsympathetic and fairly fluent in Viktor-dramatics.

 

"Then you deserve to suffer."

"I  _hate you._ "

\-----

The dam broke when Viktor entered the apartment after a long practice. Yuuri had started on dinner while he was still at the rink, and he strolled into the kitchen, question on his lips. What he saw stopped him short.

 

"Yuuuuri...what vegetables do we need to-"

 

He was about to ask what vegetables they needed to grab this weekend, but soon vegetables were the last thing on his mind. Yuuri, clad in one of Viktor's most comfortable sweaters (that was large on him and therefore engulfed Yuuri) and a pair of those damn yoga tights was stirring something on the stove. He was humming along with something playing on his phone laying on the table, and his hips would sway back and forth every so often. At the sound of Viktor's voice, he turned around, spoon still in hand. The spoon was dripping with something, so he absent-mindedly stuck it into his mouth; pink lips sucking it clean before speaking.

 

"Oh, you're home, Viktor. Sorry, I wasn't listening. What were you going to ask me?"

 

Viktor stayed silent. He was pretty sure his left eye was twitching. Yuuri frowned, confused.

 

"Um, Viktor? Are you okay? Did Yuri say something about your hair again? It's  _fine,_ Viktor."

 

Still nothing. He was worried now. He looked over at the ingredients on the counter. He didn't  _think_ he'd put anything in the food that Viktor didn't like, and he didn't have any allergies that he knew of...

 

"Is it dinner? I didn't make anything with peas or radishes in it..."

 

Nothing.

 

"Viktor, are you sick? Do you need to go to a doctor or the hospital? I'll call someone to pick us up right now if need be-"

 

He reached and clicked the stove off, but before he could reach for his phone, Viktor had pinned both arms to the table by his wrists. The shock kept him there: chest on the table, arms pinned forward, with his fiance plastered against his back.

 

"V-Viktor?"

 

Viktor was inhaling deeply, the scent heavy and intoxicating. He was suprised to note that there was no unpleasant undercurrent of panic, anxiety, or distress. Just the freshness of rainfall, hints of spring earth, and...definitely cinnamon. He was always curious as to what that last piece of his scent was, never sure, but now he was close enough to confirm that it was without a doubt the sweet yet spicy smell of cinnamon.

 

Mixed with his own scent, it was _heavenly_.

 

It was then that he noticed just where he was, what he was doing, and scrambled back so quick that he tripped over himself. He landed flat on his ass, but was more focused on the fact that he had just invaded Yuuri's personal space than the pain in his rear. Yuuri smelled the acidic odor of distress pratically  _oozing_ from Viktor, and sighed. He wasn't going to let him run away this time. So mustering all the courage he had (which wasn't much in this situation, really), he made his way over to Viktor. The alpha scooted back until his spine hit the fridge, and then his eyes widened when he realized he had nowhere left to run. Yuuri took advantage of this by standing over him for a millisecond before plopping himself down into his lap. When Viktor spoke, his words were calm, but his eyes were heated.

 

"Yuuri. Get off of me."

 

Yuuri could be quite stubborn when he wanted to. He settled himself in a straddling position and crossed his arms.

 

"No."

"Yuuri, love, I adore you. But you need to get off of me right now."

"No. We're going to talk about this like rational adults. I get that you don't want me, Viktor, but you could at least have the decency to say it to my face instead of making me suffer wondering what I've done wrong-"

 

He could feel the tears welling up, but before even one could fall, he was being kissed within an inch of his life. It wasn't like the kiss they'd shared at the Cup of China, or any of the small pecks since then. This was a heated, heavy,  _'I'm going to take you if you'll let me'_ kiss. He soon found himself in a familiar position; on his back, with Viktor looking down at him. But his expression was different, more intense.

 

"You think the reason I haven't tried to have sex with you is because I don't  _want you?_ Have you seen the way you make  _me_ suffer? I just wanted to give you the space you needed and respect your boundaries. If you would have given me permission, I'd have taken you  _months_ ago."

"B-but, I-"

"No. You let me speak. I gave you  _Eros_ because that was what you were to me. The object of my sexual desires. It was the best and worst decision of my life. I willingly submitted myself to the torture of seeing you move like you did for  _months._ But it was the closest I'd get until you were ready. You acted like you didn't understand  _eros,_ when to me,  _everything you did_ was erotic."

"But I'm heavier than normal for an omega, and I know my scent isn't anything astounding..."

"Your ass and hips are a godsend and your smell makes me crazy. Anything else?"

 

Yuuri groaned, wanting to hide his red face. For  _months?_ Viktor had been wanting him for  _months_? Everyone was right: he  _was_ oblivious. Viktor pressed on.

 

"You're wearing my ring now, but do you know how insane I was going knowing that any alpha could technically take you from me at any time? I almost bit Chris' hand off when he groped you."

 

He had noticed that Viktor's smile was a bit strained at the time. But Viktor's smile now was slow and sultry. It would have been threatening if it wasn't arousing instead.

 

"But now I  _know_ you want me like I want you. So you're going to keep my sweater on while I _finally_ rip off those damn pants of yours. And then I'm going to take you on _every single flat surface_ in this apartment: the wall, the table, the couch, the bed, all of it. By the time I'm done, there'll be no question who you belong to. And _you'll_ have no question of whether I want you or not. But I'm waiting for you to say the words, Yuuri. Because I won't do a thing until you do, but just know what's going to happen afterwards."

 

Yuuri was reminded of his _eros_ performance in Russia. But he couldn't be bothered to think too hard on it, because he had yanked Viktor down by the fron of his jacket. He whispered into his ear, and it was all history from there.

\-----

When the two entered their home-rink the following Monday, gazes immediately shot to the pair. Yuuri was red in the face and his jacket was zipped to his neck. Viktor couldn't keep the self-satisfied smirk off _his_ face. Mila noticed that he looked smug as fuck and far more relaxed, and shot him a thumbs up. Viktor grinned wider.

 

"Thanks for those pants, by the way."

"I thought you hated them, and me for recommending them."

"I take it all back. They are the best invention ever. Just a little hard to remove, though."

 

Mila laughed, and Yuri's voice echoed through the rink.

 

"The  _fuck_? Did you and Viktor stop in a bakery on the way here? It's bad enough you took off the whole weekend, and now you're fucking up your diets-"

 

Mila laughed harder, and Yuuri looked ready to off himself. He did, in fact, smell like a cinnamon pastry. Mixing oranges and cinnamon did that to you, apparently. Viktor just said it made him more delicious. By the time they were finished (and Viktor had made good on his promise), he was permanently scented like that. He hid his face in his hands. Mila skated over and whispered in Yuri's ear. His shrieked swears that he would never visit their apartment _ever_ could have broken glass.

 

(Yakov just yelled at them all to get back to practice.)

\-----

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
